


Water Chimes and Windfalls

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Ancestor Relationships, Ancestor's stories, F/M, Meenah has a heart, surprise surprise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 18:05:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One death couldn't possibly make up for everything. But damn if they weren't going to try.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Water Chimes and Windfalls

      When Aranea had first told her of the Condesce, Meenah decided that she had found her idol.

     And then she watched the Ancestors die.

 

     Kankri went first, in a burst of flame and anger, and she cringed from the memory that showed someone so different from her chatterbox friend. But he had been speaking out against Her Imperious Condescension. And she didn't much like him anyway.

   
     Maryam was next. Sold off, and Meenah was surprised that some iteration of Cronus could manage to hold up half a diamond. Then Aranea had swooped in, her Serket girl, and Porrim almost smiled as she fell to the deck, jade green staining the wood far deeper than it could ever be scrubbed out. But she had stolen a grub from the caves, raised him with ideas above his station. And the Condesce had been merciful, had only put her in chains, right? So she moved on.

   
     Cronus's was the first time she threw up. He was a jerk, certainly, and a creep, and a million other thngs, but no one deserved to have their fins mutilated beyond repair, their gills ripped open and slathered with salt water. She ran, ignoring the vomit on her clothing, wondering how Ampora could have been so cruel, but he had deserved it in the end, deserved to die. But his screams still haunted her as she ran.

   
      Latula's _hurt_. Serket's escape was beautiful to watch, but the crowd slung a noose around her knight's neck, for the crime of bringing in a criminal, and Meenah didn't hurt until she heard the order for the hunt had come from the top. A suicide mission.

   
      Meulin was nearly a relief. Old age. Then she saw the caves, the paintings, the books that overflowed with words and pictures. _A fast death might have been more kind,_ and then she feels horrified for even thinking it.

   
      Aranea. For once, she is afraid. But she has come this far, and it would be an insult to this version of that girl, the woman she never knew. So she watches Nitram kill her, and moves on. _An )(eiress never cries,_ she tells herself, and a treacherous little voice replies, _Ra1n a1n't p1nk, doll._

   
      Nitram's will be the worst, she decides, the first (and technically only) at her alternate self's hand. Still, she forces herself to curl up and watch the battle. It's a memory she wouldn't trade for anything, the man Rufioh could have become, and she finds herself cheering for the Summoner. But it's not the first time she's killed him, and her other self laughs as bronze flows freely. It's not until after her alternate scoffs and kicks the body away that Meenah realizes it had all been a game to her.

   
      Darkleer has her certain that she's finally numb. Old age, alone and outcast, he dies as a forgotten warrior. Finally at peace. His past actions still weighed heavily on him, and she wonders if he truly would have wanted to atone if he knew the burden he would pass on to his Descendant.

   
     The Highblood lasts very long, and Meenah's more than glad to see the back of that murder clown. There was no way that silent Kurloz could ever be like that.

   
      Although Nitram's is still the worst, Mituna's wins as the most horrific. He was barely a troll by the time the Vast Glub hit, all wires and p2iioniic2 and powers. And for him, this was freedom. The Condesce is enraged and devastated all at once, and Meenah doesn't stay long. There is nothing left to see.

  
     Megido had been waiting for her since day one. It's hardly a death, more of a trade. Power for freedom. And Damara walks away with the better end of the bargain.

 

      Meenah stumbles away from that set of memories, sharp with pain and suffering. Somehow, she finds her way to the Imperial Palace, her Ancestor's home (never hers), and wanders through it blindly. Her room holds too many bad memories, of an Empress-lusus that tried to smother her, so her feet lead her, oddly enough, to Her Imperial Radiance's room, and she burrows under the sweet smelling blankets.

      When she wakes, she's in a fog. For a moment, it's as if she's had the most horrible dayterror imagineable, and run to the Empress's quarters to hide from the dreams that had plagued her slumber.  
      The realization hits her about the same time that someone in the room clears their throat. Meenah's immediately on guard, looking around the room wildly. He's there, sitting cross-legged on the oversized bed (there had always been a wriggler or two trying to crawl in with HER lusus), wings folded down behind him.

      There's no malice in his gaze, and he doesn't seem to have a hand on his strife deck in any way. "We were wonder1ng when you'd go to look." His voice is soft, and she has to strain to hear it.  
      For a moment, she stares at him, wondering exactly what he means by that. They had known she would look? "Shoal what, you appointed a glubbin spokestroll? Reel krilliant." Her reply has lost its usual bite, though, and she's certain that she missed a pun somewhere. "Why didn't anemone of you S)(-ELL me?"  
      Rufioh regards her with a quiet calm that's hardly characteristic of him, and for a momen, her vision slips, and a much older troll, battleworn and war-scarred sits in his place. Then she chokes out a sob, a horrible admition of weakness, and her friend is back.  
      "Wanted you to see for yourself, Pe1xes. What d1d you th1nk?" He waits for her answer patiently, and several deep breaths later, she manages to find her voice.  
      "You were awl twisted, awl of us. It ain't right, Nitram. But you were shoal glubbin _cool_."  
      Rufioh blinks at her, and she realizes that he hadn't expected that answer. For a moment, she's scared, wondering what his reaction will be. Then he chuckles, low and deep, and gestures at her. "Scoot over, doll."

  
      They curl in the huge bed and spend hours talking. He coaxes old stories out of her, of her life in the palace and on the moon, and she convinces him that he really should try out his communing powers on sea creatures, and that it would DOLPHINATELY be a good idea to catch a jellyfish some day.  
      It's so achingly _normal_ , and she never wants to go.

  
      Finally, he pauses midsentence, and looks her over, almost as if he's searching for something that he can't quite place. Then he holds up one finger. "S1gnless." Two fingers. "Dolorosa." Three. "Dualscar." Four. "Redglare." Five. "D1sc1ple." He switches hands smoothly, still looking straight into her blank eyes. It must be as unnerving for him as it is for her, but it doesn't show on his face. Six. "M1ndgang." Seven. "Summoner." Eight. "Darkleer." Nine. "H1ghblood." Ten. "Ps11on11c."  
      Now he's out of hands, and still giving her that same expectant look. She holds up an index finger, her voice never wavering. ")(andmaid." He nods, satisfied.  
      "That's eleven, doll." His voice has regained that quiet tone she heard earlier, but now it's dangerous, now it has an edge of steel hidden behind it. "We're st1ll short one."

  
      She answers him with a grin, sharp teeth bared and fins flared wide. "Naut for long."


End file.
